


Drunk at My Door

by Spunkybob5



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Crowley, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Drunk Castiel, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fights, Fluff, M/M, Sam Is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spunkybob5/pseuds/Spunkybob5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel shows up on Crowley's doorstep, drunk off his ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk at My Door

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love Cas and Crowley together, ok? I'm still working at making Crowley sound like himself. I'm getting there.

“Don’t touch me!”

Crowley blinked, turning towards the door.

“Let me through. I need to see the king.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. He knew that voice.

“Crowley! Tell your minions to let me through!”

The minions shifted uncomfortably. No one wanted to be near a belligerent Castiel, even if he wasn’t at full power.

“It’s all right, boys. Let him in.”

“You heard him!” Castiel stalked into the room, trench billowing behind him. “Crowley. I’m here to see you.”

“Castiel. I gathered as much.” Crowley turned to the court, already edging towards the exits, “Go away.”

The room cleared in an instant.

Crowley turned to Castiel. He was leaning heavily on a pillar, staring down at his hands. His clothes were more disheveled than usual, and his hair stuck up at odd angles, even for him. Crowley wrinkled his nose at the stench of cheap whiskey that seemed to seep from his very pores.

“Are you…drunk?”

Castiel raised his head, laying it against the pillar with a thunk. He leveled Crowley with a look, “Why must everyone ask stupid questions?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Did you know you’re really hard to find?” Castiel looked around the room, seeming to recognize his surroundings for the first time. “I had to, um, find a demon. Then catch the demon. Then I, um, yelled at the demon. To tell me where you were.” Castiel stumbled to Crowley’s throne, sinking onto it.

Crowley resisted the urge to shove Castiel forcefully from his seat. Instead, “So the demon told you?”

“What? No, of course not. I had to kill it,” Castiel went silent, running his fingers over the ornate wood.

“So how did you find me?”

“Hmm?” Castiel looked up. “Oh, the GPS on your phone. I learned how to use it in an emergency. Dean showed me.”

“Bullocks,” Crowley muttered to himself. “Castiel. Are you – are you crying?”

“Dean,” Castiel wailed, sobbing brokenly into his hands.

Crowley tried to ignore the cold the streaking down his spine, “Is Dean…dead?”

“What? No!” Castiel looked at Crowley, horrified. “Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“You’re here and you’re crying!”

“He’s not dead. I mean, I don’t think he’s dead. I guess I wouldn’t know. I haven’t talked to him in…44 hours, 21 minutes, and 52 seconds.”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, “Are you here because of a lover’s quarrel?”

Castiel sniffed, looking at Crowley with impossibly blue eyes, “He said it was better if I’d never met him. That my life was better without him.”

“So, you left…and came here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go. And I thought, ‘I’m in Hell. This is Hell. Who can understand my Hell? Crowley can.’ So I came here.”

“Lucky me,” Crowley drawled, already wondering what it would take to both sober up and calm down a heartbroken angel.

“I knew Crowley would let me live with him.”

“Live with me? Hold on –“

“Crowley,” Castiel grabbed his arm.

Crowley froze, eyes wide.

“I didn’t want to kill you, Crowley. I didn’t. Rowena – she made me. I didn’t want you to die,” Castiel said, fingers tight on Crowley’s arm. “As demons and kings of Hell go, you are all right.”

“Aw, thank you. Feeling truly special, Castiel.”

Castiel released Crowley’s arm, “I wish you hadn’t killed Meg, though. She was nice to me. We kissed, you know.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, “Good Lord.”

***

After a few hours of listening to Castiel blabber and sob, Crowley finally managed to deposit him on the bed usually reserved for debauchery. Briefly, Crowley imagined defiling Castiel, before dismissing the idea as just too…weird.

He pulled out his phone and stepped into the hall. Thumbing through his contacts, he selected one and dialed.

“What do you want, Crowley?”

“Moose! Always good to hear your voice.”

Crowley could practically hear the eye roll.

“This isn’t a good time. I’ve got – I’m busy.”

“Yes, I imagine you are. I’d wager you and I have a similar problem right now,” Crowley bounced on the balls of his feet, delighted to have something Sam Winchester needed.

A pause, then, “What do you mean?”

“Let me guess – Dean is moping, drunk, cantankerous, and worried out of his mind. I’ll be he can barely see around all his self-loathing.”

“Crowley…” Sam sighed. “Where’s Cas?”

“You are so clever, Moose.”

“Yes, Boris, I am. Where’s Cas?”

“Boris, eh? Who is Natasha, then?” Crowley mused.

“Rowena. Abbadon. Your flavor of the month. I don’t care. _Where is Cas?”_

Crowley pulled the phone from his ear, “All right, calm down. You don’t need to shout. He’s just fine. Wandered into my throne room a few hours ago, drunk off his ass. He’s sleeping it off.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“You’re welcome, but the name is Crowley.”

Sam huffed a laugh, “How is he?”

Crowley’s voice softened, and he stepped farther from the door, “He looks like shit, honestly. Sounds like Dean took all his fears, doubts, and worries and chucked them like a blade at Castiel’s heart. Poor bastard thinks Dean hates him.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Dean. And now he’s spiraling into his abandonment issues…” Sam trailed off, voice getting softer. “You have to bring Cas back.”

“I have to do no such thing. Castiel is a grown man. Angel. Whatever. I’m not his nanny.”

“I can’t come get him! Who knows what Dean will do if I leave him alone!”

“Then bring him along. It’ll be nice to see Dean again. Plus, sounds like he’s single…”

“Dude. Ew.”

“You’re no fun, Sam.”

“I am totally ok with that. Listen, we have to reunite them. And possibly lock them in a room together until they get their heads out of their asses.”

“’They?’” Crowley bristled. “Excuse me, but I believe Castiel is the wronged party here.”

“Yeah, well, if Cas hadn’t run at the first – you know what? We are so not going to fight about this,” Sam paused, and Crowley imagined he was running his giant hand through his glossy locks. “OK, here’s the plan.”

***

“Come on, Castiel. It will be fun! Like old times!”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at Crowley, “How is hunting witches like ‘old times?’”

Crowley paused, “Because…it’s…you’re right, it’s not. But it will still be fun! You and I are a formidable team, and the world needs fewer witches.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, “What is your ulterior motive, Crowley?”

“Castiel, you wound me,” Crowley laid a hand over his heart. “And after all these weeks –“

“- days -“

“- days of watching over you, nursing you back to health. Opening my home. Asking nothing in return. And if that wasn’t enough, you tried to kill me. In front of my mother. Who does that?”

Castiel sighed, “All right, all right. Where are we going?”

Crowley grinned, “It’s about three hours north of here. Remember our last road trip? This one will be so much better. No handcuffs!”

“I thought you liked handcuffs,” Castiel groused, following Crowley to the car.

“Oh, Castiel. You know me so well.”

***

“No.”

“Castiel, you stubborn son of a bitch, _get out of the car.”_

Castiel folded his arms, staring resolutely in the opposite direction of the Impala, “No. You can’t make me.”

Crowley dropped his head to his hands, “Castiel, stop being a petulant child. Just go talk to Dean.”

Castiel did not move, “Did Dean ask you to bring me here?”

“No.”

“No, of course not,” bitterness laced Castiel’s words. “If Dean wanted to see me, he would have let me know by now.”

“Have you _met_ Dean? He’s the only person on the planet more stubborn than you!” Crowley sucked in a deep breath. “Castiel. As much as I adore being your bestie, you have to talk to Dean.”

Castiel swallowed hard, “Just take me home, Crowley.”

“And where is your home, Angel? Not in Hell. Not in Heaven. Right?”

Castiel bit his lip, staring hard at the seat.

Crowley tapped his knee, “Castiel.”

Castiel met his gaze.

“You and I both know Dean is your home.”

“He doesn’t want me, Crowley,” Castiel’s voice broke, and if Crowley had a heart, it would have broken along with it.

“Did he actually say that?”

“He said,” Castiel licked his lips. “He said I was better off without him, that he ruined me, that…oh.”

The demon and the angel sat in silence for a moment.

“I think I should go talk to Dean.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Castiel.”

***

Crowley checked his watch and sighed. Castiel and Dean had been locked in the hotel room for hours. The shouting had stopped a while ago, followed by some intense sobbing. The silence now seemed ominous.

“You don’t have to stay, Crowley,” Sam said.

“Wouldn’t want you to get lonely, Moose.”

“We should have brought alcohol,” Sam shifted, sitting up a little higher on the hood of the Impala. “Anyway. Thank you.”

“For…?”

“Taking care of Cas. And bringing him here. It was surprisingly decent of you, man.”

Crowley shrugged, “Castiel and I…we aren’t that different.”

Sam huffed, “I cannot think of two people in the entire world who are more different than you and Cas.”

Crowley opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by moans filtering through the door.

“Ah! That’s my cue. See you around, Moose.”

“How are you and Cas alike, Crowley?”

Crowley stuffed his hands in his pockets, “It’s obvious, isn’t it? We always come when you call.”

With that, Crowley was gone, and Sam was alone with the sounds of Dean and Castiel vigorously rekindling their romance.

“Dammit. I should have gone with Crowley.”

***

“Are you stupid? I was here four days ago. Let me pass.”

Crowley glanced up, eager for the distraction from his incredibly boring briefing. He almost laughed aloud at the sound of demons being tossed against walls as Castiel made his way to the throne room.

“Crowley.”

“Castiel. You could call ahead, you know. I’d tell them to clear the way for you.”

Castiel shrugged, “This is more fun.”

At that, Crowley did laugh. He waved to the remaining minions, “Get out.”

They did.

“What brings you back, Castiel? Another spat so soon?”

“No, nothing like that. I came to say thank you,” Castiel pulled a small, brightly wrapped gift from his pocket.

“Castiel! I’m touched,” Crowley accepted the gift, tearing open the paper. “Is this…needlepoint? ‘Home is where the heart is?’” Crowley stared up at Castiel, puzzled.

“It seemed appropriately ridiculous.”

Crowley laughed, “It certainly is. Hardly makes up for all the time and energy I put into a hot mess of an angel, though.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, before pulling a bottle from another pocket, “Will this do?”

Crowley took the bottle reverently, “Craig. Aged 54 years. Yes, Castiel, I believe this is a start.” He strode to the sideboard. “Have a drink with me?”

“All right. Bestie,” Castiel agreed.

Crowley poured two glasses, passing one to Castiel before hefting his own, “To complicated relationships.”

Castiel snorted, “Here here.”


End file.
